Another Dawn
by Slaycinder
Summary: After thirty years of hibernation, Saya awakes to a life very different from what she remembers-as well as a brand new chiropteran threat. Experimental story; let's just see what happens. Rated M so things can get nice and gory. And possibly lemony. ;D


**Blood+**

"**Another Dawn"**

**Chapter 1 - Wake**

_**A/N: First thing I've posted in a very long time. I have no idea where this is going, so…it'll just be an adventure for everyone. ^^ I'm just glad to be writing again.**_

_**Needless to say, I don't own any aspect of Blood+ or its characters/settings, etc...**_

With wakefulness coming through in gentle, unobtrusive waves, she felt the wrappings of her cocoon snug around her, as fine and spindly as clean silk, but with a fortitude akin to metal. In her distant state of consciousness, she cared little for the difference between the outer world and her little pod. Her fingertips fluttered drowsily across the deceptively soft chrysalis and she cosseted its delicate texture, its sturdy composure. Yet, amid this sweet serenity there was something buried, something that gradually uprooted her from the comfortable haze of sleep. Hunger. Deep and daunting, insatiable hunger. She was suddenly overcome with nostalgia for a familiar rich elixir; the wine of life; the nectar of demons.

Her head was bogged down in forgetfulness, but her body surged with the unfailing memory of that which it instinctively craved. She writhed just a little within the cocoon, and soon found that what was once a cozy womb was now an unacceptable means of confinement. Eyes blind, she ran her palm along the tightly curving walls, pressing into them and deciding that they would not yield to timid nudges. The hunger flared up impatiently, and on impulse she gathered a fist and reamed it straight through the thickly woven cocoon. She paused. Something new was calling to her. It was as familiar as the hunger, but rather than missing it dearly, she knew this thing to have visited her time after time while she slept. It was a low and commanding sound, a darkly entrancing euphony of timeless grace that poured right into her soul and completed her.

Rather than distracting her from her hunger, the black rhapsody nurtured it, encouraged it, beckoned her forth from her silk chrysalis with the promise of satisfying it.

She retracted her arm and peered out through the hole she'd left. Quiet blue light doused the stone chamber, and from the open door there cast a long, lithe shadow. The sinister euphony continued to caress the air, and so she was seduced by it and its promise to tear away at the edges of the gap, to claw her way to freedom beyond the confines of the cocoon. The task was effortless with the melody of her soul calling, and before long she collapsed onto the cold floor, finally free. But there was a complication, one last thing between her and the decadent drink she so desired. She was weak. The most she could do was prop up by her arms, her pale skin stark in the light of the moon. Her exiguous naked body was drawn out across the floor from where she'd fallen, and was dripping with languid veils of raven hair. She was suddenly so exhausted, and though magnetically drawn to the source of the magnificent sound, and to the lour of that rich elixir, she simply could not summon the strength to press on. Her arms quivered and buckled, and from there the rest of her body was like dead weight. She stayed there, resting and forlornly watching the shadow by the doorway, hearing the beautiful sound that swelled her heart and fuelled her hunger, wanting terribly to be near to its conductor. And then it stopped.

Her vivid red eyes slid shut in defeat, but reopened at a new sound—nearly silent thuds against the floor, light footsteps that drew nearer to her.

"Saya."

Through the chill of the stone and the open air came a warm touch that curled under her and scooped her tenderly up, bringing her to a face that struck her being more deeply than even the black rhapsody from before. In his cool glaucous eyes she found over a century of merciless war, of excruciating endurance, and of an imperishable partnership that had doubtlessly kept them both alive. The emotions came back in nameless waves, an overwhelming flood of the past that would have claimed her if not for the horrible burn that ravaged her throat from thirst. Without question her Chevalier drew aside his collar, and without hesitation, the Queen struck his exposed neck, her teeth fearlessly breaking the skin.


End file.
